


Treasure

by Esthree



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Everybody Lived AU, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esthree/pseuds/Esthree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet is inspired by this art http://bardbardbard.tumblr.com/post/77872445484/big-bottom-one-day-it-will-fit-perfect</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, my thanks to Saetha for proofreading! <3

  
The dwarf goes down the hallway. For the past years he has learnt the way so well that he could probably make it with his eyes closed, but it would be a shame to lose the possibility of admiring their renewed home one more time. Erebor hasn’t simply been restored to its former glory, no, it has turned even more beautiful and majestic. The walls of the ancestral halls are inlayed with mosaics representing the images of the latest battles and the names of the fallen are carved into stone. Nothing reminded anymore of the times when the Mountain was occupied by the dragon, apart from the golden floor in the King’s Hall – now a favorite tale amongst the little dwarflings, one about less than a dozen of dwarves who made the fire-spitting creature run all over the Erebor. 

If one gave it a thought, it was only with the little khazad born in Erebor, that it truly became rich. Prosperous. Alive. What could be worth more than gold, more than gems or mithril? Only children, Mahal’s blessing, the future glory of their people. The future of Erebor.

The dwarf walks past by the royal guards, standing at the entrance to the king’s chambers. They let him pass without a word. There’s nobody in the drawing-room, but the door to the study is slightly ajar, and Dwalin can hear ringing childish voices and bursts of laughter. 

“Please, may I? Please, give it!”

The dwarf comes up to the door and peers inside. The king is sitting at his desk in his favorite armchair, and a wee red-headed boy jumps in his lap and reaches out for his golden crown. Another boy, a bit younger than his brother, is playing on the floor with tiny stone figurines of dwarven warriors. The king smiles and bows his head, and the boy enthusiastically pulls at the heavy crown, all but letting it drop to the ground, and finally puts it on top of his head. The crown predictably sinks down to his shoulders and the boy raises it stubbornly, trying to hold it on eyebrow level with both hands.

“Once it will fit.”

The king puts his arm round the boy in order not to let him slip to the floor together with his trophy. The younger red-head looks up from his toy warriors.

“Is it true you four killed all the orcs? With dad, and uncle Kíli, and mister Dwalin?” 

“Not all of them.”

“But plenty,” says the dwarf not leaving his place in the doorway.

The King smiles and shakes his head.

“What is it?”

“A messenger from Bain: the ambassadors of Gondor have arrived. They’ve been shown their quarters and served dinner. I guess they’ve already discussed what they wanted with the people of Dale and are now eager to pay us a visit. You know, their ruler is fond of gems. Glóin is rubbing his hands in anticipation. Should we start preparations for the party?”

The king waves his hand dismissively.

“Later. You see, I have more valuable gems here.” 

The dwarf in the doorway smirks.

“Now you do look like your grandfather.”

“Exactly.” The king turns to him, and the dwarf’s heart sings as it does every single time he sees those smiling blue eyes, brighter than any diamond. “And I dare anybody to blame me for it.”  



End file.
